


Curiosity

by kikibug13



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cheating, Dreams, F/F, Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikibug13/pseuds/kikibug13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ariadne hadn't meant to come here again, especially not alone, but her mind wouldn't stop thinking about this place and she had so many questions, ones that Dom wouldn't answer, and she wanted to learn, and--</p>
<p>Well. Maybe she <i>had</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_paint_the_sky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_paint_the_sky/gifts).



Ariadne hadn't meant to come here again, especially not alone, but her mind wouldn't stop thinking about this place and she had so many questions, ones that Dom wouldn't answer, and she wanted to learn, and--

Well. Maybe she _had_. 

But it was another's person's dream (and it took her a lot of work to figure out how to get to it without him) and it was about his dead wife, and she couldn't just admit to wanting to come back, and yet she had to. Because for all the curiosity about what Dom and Mal had built together, that was only a part of why it had plagued her mind when she wasn't focusing on her actual assignment. 

_Her_. 

Ariadne understood why Mal plagued Dom's dreams, with all the layers of love and self-blame and anger and guilt and pure mourning pain. She understood why they had done what they had in the first place, too, and she would be willing to believe that, despite Cobb's quick mind and talent, it had been _her_ idea and a lot of the execution had been _hers_. Oh, they had probably worked together, all right. They'd planned and built and dreamt side by side and he'd taken her guidance, beautiful and subtle and stubborn, with neither of them paying the least attention. Why would they? It would have been as natural for her to lead as for him to follow. _Anyone_ to follow, most likely. A woman like that...

Not that Ariadne had any trouble in the self-confidence department. Not at all. She knew her strengths and her weaknesses, she knew her talents and her precision and her focus. Her imagination. She was learning fast, and even if the rest of the time weren't awed, they were definitely improving (interest to her as a person - a woman - aside).

But Mal? Mal had _class_. Mal was the kind of woman who entered a room and turned everyone's head (had Dom gotten so used to her and forgotten? Had he spent too much time with no-one _but_ her-- well, yes. Yes, he had) and glowed with the attention - the desire - that nobody really could hide. Mal was...

... sitting on a sprawling couch right across from the door Ariadne opened. Looking up at her visitor with calm and poise and dignity - and not a sliver of surprise.

"I wondered when you'd come."

"I'm... sorry if I bother you, I wanted to have a look around..."

"No bother at all. It can get very lonely, here. He comes here when he can't avoid it, but I do have all the rest of the time..."

Ariadne's mouth went dry at the slight inflection on the word _lonely_. She... really shouldn't be thinking along those lines, she was sure. Even aside from the fact that the woman across from her had committed suicide (mostly), she had had a _husband_. Two children. There was no way possible this kind of thinking would lead to... anything.

"You haven't been aging."

"His dream. I am as old as he needs me to be. And... I have had some time to learn to tweak things to my preferences. Old and alone is, in fact, even worse than alone and in my prime." 

Yet another emphasis on _in my prime_. Ariadne couldn't be imagining it, could she? Why would Mallorie Cobb be trying to hint things... to _her_? She'd had half a century of a happy marriage, however painfully it had ended, and she loved her husband.

She'd had half a century of only belonging to one person, a man. And she still loved him, but he had done something that neither of them should have had to.

And how many people had come here, after that?

Ariadne's eyes widened very slightly at the realization, then she made a firm resolution - Mal might have had all the time to think and to know, but this... but anything wouldn't be healthy. Would make things worse. Her decision made, she finally smiled.

"Well. If you don't mind to me being here, may I ask questions? I promise I'll keep away from the ones that tend to drive your father up the wall."

One exquisite eyebrow arched, taking in the decision, and Mal nodded slightly, then her own eyes crinkled. "I should have know you were one of his students. Don't worry, I'm harder to irritate, usually. Ask away." She gestured to the couch beside herself, and Ariadne walked over and sat, mind at peace (or close enough). Body... well. They were in a dream. She had some more control than usual here, after all. 

And so they were, for hours. Mal had taken the hint and put them both at ease, and, oh, just like Cobb, her knowledge of this new (for the Architect) trade was extensive. Added to a quick mind and beautiful, pointed imagination, and time - dream time - floated by them unnoticed. They walked some, exploring areas - and ways to modify the dream - and got some of Mal's notes, and pictures. Ariadne shifted non-reality enough to produce a few small models of situations she had built in practice. (None of the current assignment. Dom had been clear enough of the danger that information was going to be, anyway.)

They ended up laughing (Mal could laugh like a little girl, playful and mischievous and teasing and bright, not only the rich throaty deep laugh of a seductress, although the latter still sneaked into all the laughter) as Mal pointed out details in one of those models, and Ariadne was trying to get it back, because she knew of an error and she didn't want it seen, and Mal raised the little thing above her head and away. Ariadne leaned across her lap and reached for it...

... and Mal's other arm found it's way around her waist, and she was so _soft_ , for all her proud, firm bearing, and Ariadne's eyes widened again as they found the older woman's, and then they were kissing and it was too perfect for her mind to object. Hot and gentle and pliant and honey-sweet, chasing thoughts away and leaving only sensations. The motion of a hand not much larger than her own against the small of her back. The quick tightness of her nipples against her bra. The quiet drop of the model on the couch, and delicate fingers sliding up the back of her neck and into her hair. She didn't want to stop.

She had to stop. 

The sound Ariadne made as she pulled back was nearly a sob, choked and small, but she didn't let Mall capture her lips again. 

"I'd better go."

She extricated herself from Mal with reluctance. Those large eyes never wavered from her, but Mal didn't clutch. (She wouldn't.)

"Will you come back?"

"Will you remember this if I do?"

The beautiful face tiled to one side, and Ariadne couldn't help reaching to move a strand of wavy hair from a smooth cheek. 

"I'll be waiting. Now go."

It was not an answer at all. But the imperative was clear. And, as Ariadne climbed over a window...

She knew she was going to obey. Wondering, all the time between now and then, what they would do when she did. Her imagination had some... rather forward suggestions.

Ariadne suspected Mal intended to surpass them all.


End file.
